


more than friends

by sansone



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, I still have a soft spot for these two, I wrote this in 2015, but hey, if I were to write it now it would be much more queer, no one actually dies tho, this is what quarantine does to me, tw: mentions of death, tw: panic attack, unlike on the show -- am still salty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24292168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansone/pseuds/sansone
Summary: I never intended to post this, but I just stumbled upon it and thought to myself, hey, maybe someone out there will enjoy reading this. So here goes. Post-Twilight AU where Kate almost dies (details are not fleshed out, but let's run with this, okay?), which makes her brazen and oh-so-ready to fuck Gibbs. Smut, angst, a bit of fluff (?)Hope you are doing okay during these uncertain times. I thought it would be fitting to rewatch Battlestar Galactica, but it doesn't seem to be streaming anywhere -- sad.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Caitlin Todd
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	more than friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flootzavut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/gifts).



There's no time, no time whatsoever for her to breathe, because his lips are everywhere and she just can't _think_ straight. But that's not the point, never was. When he said, I'll drive you home, all she heard was, _I'll fuck you quietly against the door until you feel alive again_. But now he isn't, _now_ , he's making it impossible for her to stay quiet with his sinful lips drawing sighs and whines and _God_ , _moans_ , from her - and they haven't even made it to the bedroom yet.

She is kind of terrified that a simple - _single_ \- kiss can reduce her to a quivering, incoherent mess. Her mind is spinning and her heart is racing and all she can manage is a low murmur, “Don’t stop, don't stop, don't _stop,_ " because Gibbs is now nipping on her skin, soft and rough all at once, and she just wants him to keep going and - _give her pain if that's what's real._

"Good?" he whispers in her ear, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her neck, before he pulls back to look her in the eye. She bites her lip not to scream at him (plenty of time for that later), and grips his neck, nails slightly digging into skin as she pulls him down for another kiss, too intense, too frantic and too _right_. 

"I'll take that as a yes," he murmurs, his gorgeous voice making her shiver. Or is that his hand under her shirt, scratching down her back, oh, so very lightly? She slips her hands in the back pockets of his pants and pulls him closer, feeling _exactly_ how good _he's_ feeling. He groans and she looks up at him through her eyelashes, winces when he drops a kiss on her forehead because _come on_ , she's still waiting to be fucked against her door and he's being all touchy-feely (and that hand, gently tucking a strand of hair away, is _so_ not helping).

So she takes matter into her own hands, _literally_ , slides her fingers down his shirt and cups his hardness over the fabric of his pants. He groans and she rubs her thumb against his cock - soft, _soft_ touch, meant to drive him crazy, meant to show him that she, _Kate,_ is in control and he is at her mercy. It’s thrilling and _probably_ wrong _,_ but it’s keeping her grounded when she could have been falling apart.

Kate brushes her lips against his ear, her cheek pressed to his, and whispers, "Pants should go, Gibbs.” She hears him gasp in surprise, and can’t suppress her grin. She undoes his zipper, and slips a hand in his pants just to see what else she’s capable of, what other reaction she can tease out of him. "Katie," he all but moans, eyes pinched closed and his breaths coming out labored and hot against her neck. 

_Katie? What was that?_ Kate brushes it off because it sounds almost endearing (and that's not right). She moves her fingers, slow and teasing until he - _finally! -_ gets it and shoves his pants down, then takes her hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing her wrist. "Patience, Kate." 

She swallows hard, her gaze flicking down to his cock, then back up to him (God he's _big_ ). He is breathing more steadily and there's a gleam in his eyes, a mischievous smirk that means _trouble_. 

Soon enough his hands are on her ass, and he is lifting her, pressing her against him, which makes them both groan because friction. Her legs come around his waist and she hooks her arms around his neck, in a hold too tight but craving, no, _needing_ the contact. 

Kate finds herself giving directions to her bedroom. When he mutters something about _doing it backwards_ (the walking) and how _tough_ it is (because hard-on), despite her better judgment, she giggles and he lets her down in retaliation. She rolls her eyes, then grabs his hand and leads him the rest of the way. It only strikes her as weird - the first time he's come to her house and they are doing _this?_ \- when they are inside her room, when a pantless Gibbs closes the door and she starts popping the buttons of her own shirt. 

He doesn't like this and makes it clear, but her shirt is already on the floor. She reaches back to unclasp her bra, but he grips her hand, stills her movement. "Let me," he murmurs, and she swears she could drown in his voice, this rich, gravelly tone, and die happy (if there were a happy death). He kisses her bare shoulder, unclasps her bra and before she knows it, she's half-naked and he's looking at her, devouring her with his gaze and she can't do much but pull him down for another searing kiss, _anything_ to break that spell. Because he seems enthralled, and that's not right either, _can't_ be.

His hands are on her hips and his thumbs are mapping circles onto her skin, the touch still gentle, unhurried, _maddening._ Even the kiss turns tender, which is wrong, oh so _wrong._ By the time they are done, she’ll be crying and she knows it; because he is holding her like she’s precious, like he needs this almost as much as she needs it herself and that, _that_ is not something she can wrap her head around, yet, or ever. So she breaks the contact, unzips her pants and quickly shimmies out of them, her panties following suit. _There,_ she’s fully exposed, and Kate hopes he gets the message, gets that he shouldn’t hold back, shouldn’t be kind but give himself to her – right about _now._

“God, Kate,” he whispers, and she closes her eyes because she can’t take the awe or the hint of concern in his gaze, she just _can’t._ She feels his hands cup her face, soft, yet sure, feels his thumb trace a soothing line under her eye, silently pleading with her to look at him and she does, for a moment. It’s overwhelming and she shivers when he leans down to kiss her cheek, kiss her lips, and neck and shoulder. She doesn’t want the slow dance, she _so_ doesn’t, but she finds herself indulging in the contact, before she hears him murmur between kisses words not meant for her ears, “I almost lost you, Kate. I almost lost you too.”

She swallows against the lump in her throat, her breathing heavy, lips parched. _I almost lost you too?_ She blinks against her dizziness and tugs at his sleeve – why is he still wearing a shirt?! – willing him to snap out of it, willing _herself_ to snap out of it. “Gibbs—“ He looks at her, and she takes his hand, tugs at it, too, insistent, and when he doesn’t take the hint, she pulls him along with her to her bed. “Gibbs, _please._ ” She reaches to grip his neck and pulls him down for a kiss, nipping and biting on his lip, too frantic to soothe the wound, but wanting, _no_ , needing him to understand, needing him to trail his hand up her body, just like that, find her breast and squeeze, his nails digging slightly into her skin – _just like that, oh God, don’t stop._ He deepens the kiss, pulls her closer, and she whimpers, because finally, _finally,_ he’s moving at her speed, not lagging behind, but touching her wherever he can.

When they break the kiss, both in need of air, his eyes are dark with arousal and she smirks, her fingers deftly working the buttons of his shirt, even as he’s walking her back, pushing her onto her bed, and climbing right after her. She’s soon slipping it off him, and he’s all naked, hovering above her. _Wow, he’s gorgeous_ , her mind supplies, while her hands reach up to touch his chest, his back, - just to make sure it’s all real – her nails digging into his ass and pulling him _exactly_ where she wants him to be between her thighs, making them both groan. It’d be easy to wrap her fingers around his cock, guide him inside her and be done with it; because by the look in his eyes, that’s what he wants, too. But he’s pushing himself onto his forearms, breaking the contact, and seeking her eyes, somehow having retained some of his composure. “You sure?” he whispers, and when she nods, vigorously, because really?!, he leans down to press an open mouthed kiss to the junction between her neck and shoulder and she arches her back on a whimper. If he “patience, Katie’s” her once again, she doesn’t even know what she’d do, won’t be responsible if –

But then he kisses his way up her neck and nuzzles her ear, his breaths tickling her skin, making her shiver. He’s back to his old ways, and it’s driving her mad, because she needs him right now, doesn’t want him to wait, just wants _him._

If she weren’t thinking about all the ways he could fuck her till tomorrow, all the ways he could make her: whine, beg, moan, beg some more, she’d probably pay more heed to the sweet nothings he murmurs in her ear, to his actions, quite un-Gibbs-like. She’d probably realize this is not the touch of a man who’s there for a one night stand, but of someone who _cares,_ deeply (then she’d probably giggle because her mind can be dirtier than DiNozzo’s stinky laundry on a day when he’s gone to the gym, and chastise herself for the ridiculous simile). As it is, her conscious mind can only notice the way his body is pressed against hers, the strength and comfort of him, hovering above her, so very close, and the notoriety of his lips, kissing _everywhere, damn it_ – her breasts, down her stomach, up her thigh – _oh, wait._

“Gibbs,” she whispers, her voice reduced to a tiny, _tiny_ gasp as his breath washes over her clit, and she shivers. “Stop, Gibbs.”

He looks up at her, his hold on her thigh, loose. He looks confused, and there’s a question that hasn’t quite made its way to his lips yet, as though he’s afraid to ask, but he does it anyway, after a few moments of stillness, of silence. “What’s wrong, Katie?” he asks, quiet and _unsure._ It’s a plea, as much as it is a question, and he is pulling back, and _no,_ that’s not how it’s supposed to go, that’s not –

“Nothing, it’s just –“ She props herself up on her elbows, and tries to give him a smile because he looks concerned and _nervous,_ and _well,_ she’s an idiot. “Need you, Gibbs, right now, please? I can’t, I _need_...”

He doesn’t let her finish, swallows her words in a kiss, and pushes her back into the mattress, his legs twining with hers. “Need me?” he asks, his tone lighter, amused even, and she can see the Gibbs smirk tugging at his lips. She almost smiles herself when he kisses her neck, nibbles lightly on her lobe. He’s – _playful_ – and that’s a side of him Kate hasn’t seen before. Granted, she’s never taken him to her bed, but she did not expect him to be like that, attentive and giving and you know, _still_ a bastard, she figures when he slides a hand, unexpected, between her legs. His touch is slow and teasing, and she gasps, her hand twisting in his hair.

“Giiiibshhh,” Kate all but whines; she considers the somewhat coherent string of letters that comes out of her mouth quite the achievement.

She wonders if and when she’ll get up the courage to call him Jethro. Even in her own head calling him that is _infinitely_ weird _._ “Not fair.”

“Not _sure_ what ya talking about, Agent Todd,” he murmurs in her ear, his fingers slowly fucking her until she moans, and she can feel him grinning against her skin.

Kate could probably play along (she could probably _come_ along for the ride, too), and toss back a reply, but she’s had it with Gibbs and his sinful hands and lips and tongue... _oh wait, his tongue!_ The tongue that’s paying attention to her nipple, sucking and licking and – where was she going with this again? Truth is, she could probably let him tease her and kiss her and love her – _with his body_ , _damn it_ – but that would mean letting go of what little control she has, and that’s not something she would forego lightly.

A moment of distraction is what she needs, of Gibbs pulling his fingers out of her, running his hand over her hip. He kisses her, soft and tender, and she smiles into the kiss, right before – right before she flips them over and she’s the one lying on top. She would laugh at the expression of sheer surprise and what seems like appreciation of her antics, but her body is flush with his and oh God, oh God, _oh God._ He’s not even inside her yet, nowhere close, but the tip of his cock is brushing against her and the minimal contact is making her bold, _brave._ She lifts herself slightly and positions herself above him, right before she lowers herself onto him, taking him in inch by inch.

It’s pretty obvious he hasn’t expected this, and if she weren’t too busy trying to keep her breathing under control and stay relaxed because he is certainly, positively _big,_ she would laugh at his surprise. Gibbs himself is having trouble in the breathing department, she figures (with a sense of pride, _alright_ ). He is panting, eyes pinched closed. Kate doesn’t know what possesses her to cup his cheek with her hand, but she does, and he looks at her, dazed and still a bit confused, but definitely, _definitely,_ on a high of sensation. She leans down for a kiss, as she starts moving.

She’s languid in her movement for a change, taking her time to discover some of the ways she can make him moan. It feels good. It feels _right_ (and that’s scaring her shitless). When she instigated the let’s-fuck-Gibbs operation, she did it mostly for herself in a wan attempt to reclaim her sanity. Now she wonders why it took them so long, why they didn’t give it a go before anything happened... like her almost dying.

A chill runs through her body at the thought, and she makes an effort to keep breathing, to keep _moving._ It is as though Gibbs senses the onset of her panic because his hands hold her tighter at the hips, his thumbs soothing her skin. “It’s okay, Kate. You’re okay,” he murmurs, a steady mantra, and she really, _really_ wants to believe him. Her breath hitches in her throat, and if she could, she would head slap the tear threatening to fall down her cheek. “We’re here. You’re okay.”

His voice is so _sure,_ so _calm,_ the little bugger escapes anyway, and she quickly wipes it off, taking a shaky breath. He squeezes her butt, his way of saying, _s’okay, I got you,_ she presumes, and it manages to get a laugh out of her. She’s okay. Ari is dead and she is safe (and Gibbs is still very much inside her). All of it is enough to make her pick up the pace, ride him faster, _harder,_ ride him until he can’t keep his eyes open, and he is panting. “God _,_ Katie, just like that, _oh God –“_

He’s called her Katie before, and more than half of the times it’s happened, it’s been today. But now it’s different; it’s much more intimate, _reverent_ even _._ She closes her eyes, sucks in a breath when she feels his lips on her breast, taking her nipple in his mouth. He’s worshipping her with his words, his mouth, his everything, and it’s making her head spin. “Gibbs, don’t stop, don’t – _please,_ don’t stop. “

Before she knows it, his hand is reaching between their bodies to find her clit and pull, his thumb rubbing it in tiny, circular motions, just enough to drive her insane. _There,_ she can’t think straight anymore. She’s not in control of her body (she’d call it an out-of- body experience if the thought didn’t bring up the association with death – _too soon_ ), and she’s trusting him to make her feel good. If she had an ounce of her conscious mind left, she’d probably fight that feeling, the letting go and the falling head first into this, and the –

“Look – look at me, Katie,” he murmurs, and she can hear the strain in his voice.

She opens her eyes and forces herself to comply although it’s hard; her clit it at his mercy and she’s close, so damn _close._ She holds his gaze, the intensity of it overwhelming her entirely, but she holds it nonetheless as she keeps moving and he keeps pulling and pinching and twisting until she’s coming apart and coming hard. It doesn’t take long before he follows, a string of _God, Katie’s_ and _so close_ , _so close, Katie_ playing harmony to his moans.

In the aftermath, she’s lying boneless on top of him, struggling to catch her breath. His hand is on her back, tracing random patterns on her skin. It’s soothing, it’s tender, a lullaby to her feverish body that wanted, _no,_ needed release, _reassurance_ she was alive, and when she finally had it, it proved overwhelming (if mind-blowing). He’s still inside her, and if she could feel _anything_ other than _wow, we just fucked,_ she might, _might,_ feel remorse – perhaps embarrassment – at the thought she doesn't want him to pull out of her. Because she lo-, _liked,_ the connection; in a way, it was, _he_ was making her feel safe, grounding her with his body and his words, softly whispered in her ear _(Amazing, Katie. This was amazing.)_

When she’s finally able to breathe again, his fingers are tangled in her hair, gently massaging her scalp, and his lips are pressed to her neck, branding quiet _so glad you’re okay_ ’s onto her skin and what sounded like _love you_ , but that’s clearly impossible. She’s pretty sure he could put her to sleep if he continues like this. So she lightly scrapes her nails down his side, nuzzling his neck and pressing a tender kiss to his skin.

Gibbs has always had this uncanny – _creepy_ – way of knowing things, of leaving the impression he was an NCIS special agent by day, and mind reader by, well, actually, _always,_ and so Kate isn’t surprised when he deftly rolls them over. He pulls out of her, and she’s horrified at the sound that comes out of her mouth, the whimper at the loss of him. She really doesn’t want to think about why that is, _definitely_ does not want to acknowledge the little voice that’s telling her, _what if that’s the last time this ever happened?_ What if she punched that voice repeatedly in the shins, what would it say then, huh?

 _Yes_ , Kate doesn’t want to address any of this, but the thought is still there.

It might be silly, but she wants to wrap her arms round his back, pull him close, wants to hold him, keep him, murmur ‘don’t go, don’t go, don’t _go_ ’ in his ear. But that’d be desperate, and Kate Todd doesn’t do desperate even if she _desperately_ needs it. Instead she chooses the first option, her arms woven tight round his back, tugging him close to her until he finally collapses on top.

 _Now,_ she can feel all of him, can feel the strength of his body, can take comfort in the fact he perfectly covers her. _He’ll keep me safe,_ she thinks before she can slap that filter on. She doesn’t want to dwell on why it’s so important to her she be kept safe, just knows it is, has been all along tonight.

Gibbs seems satisfied with the current arrangement, letting out small noises of contentment as he nuzzles her skin. Even though her mind’s hazy, she notices he’s careful; his touch is gentle, measured as if he doesn’t want to overwhelm her with whatever he’s feeling.

“Okay?” he whispers and kisses her cheek. There’s sadness in his voice and it’s tugging at her heart, the realization he’s probably hurting just as much, yet she ignored it, too consumed with her own desire to forget. All the times, all the ways he tried to slow her down, tried and failed, come to her now. He probably needed his own reassurance, and she shouldn’t be making excuses as to why she didn’t notice. Only she does – _I died, but didn’t. I needed this. He was here. He loves me._ – and doesn’t even flinch at the last one because by now she knows it’s the truth.

 _Gibbs loves her!_ and she’d be a fool - _a liar_ \- if she said she didn’t feel the same way. She can at least admit that much to herself even if she’s not ready for anything else (not ready to say it, not ready to hear him say it out loud either). _God,_ she really hopes there’s a ‘yet’ that’s coming up. She tightens her hold around him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Her boss, her Gibbs has been here for her tonight and she just – _fucked it all up,_ treated him horribly and _why is he still here_ and _how did I mess up so badly?_ all tumble through her mind, making it hard to breathe and why is her heart _beating so damn fast,_ she needs to _calm the fuck down_ –

Before she knows it, Gibbs is moving off of her, lying on his side next to her, clearly getting ready to get up and go. _There!_ her mind is screaming at her, _he’s leaving,_ and she tries to breathe because the world’s dizzy, _everything_ is moving and Gibbs is running his hand up and down her back... _Wait._ She can hear distant sounds, can feel his hand soothing her skin, can see his face, his eyes, _his worry,_ and she’s trying to turn down all the clatter of her brain, but she can’t, she _can’t,_ and _God_ she’s dying again.

Through the haze, she hears his voice, and it almost sounds like he’s _pleading_ with her; she can make out her name, but nothing more than that, and she’s trying so hard to get it together, to stop shaking and to actually _breathe,_ you know, get some oxygen into her lungs, breathe deep, breathe slow, _just breathe._ He’s scooting closer now, his hand cupping her cheek, and she meets his eyes, struck by how calm his gaze is, by how calm _he_ is, and that in itself soothes her somewhat. His thumb is rubbing soft patterns under her eye, wiping off something – _tears_ – and she’s horrified to realize she’s been crying and she didn’t even notice (she was too busy letting the room suffocate her, okay).

“Breathe, Katie, just like that. I got you, I’m here –“

Kate can finally make out what he’s saying, and she’s trying so very hard to hold on to that, to his words, and do what he’s telling her to do. She can hear her own sobs, but she has no control over any of it, not the crying, not her rushing heartbeat, _nothing_ . It’s terrifying, and when he pulls her close against his chest, she wraps her arms round his back on instinct, presses her face to his skin just so she can breathe him in. _He’s here. I’m here._

“You got it. Keep breathing, Katie,” he whispers, and it’s so quiet, so gentle. His voice is steady, his words - more like sweet _everythings_ rather than nothings – are what lull her back to the present. With her chest pressed close to his, she can feel his heartbeat, and how steady it is. It is as though he has slowed his breathing down on purpose, and she forces her body to comply with the set rhythm, makes herself mimic the pattern and –

“Gibbs –“ She’s stunned she can finally say something, her voice no longer trapped beneath her panic. Gibbs’ fingers are tracing patterns down her back, and she lets herself pull back a little, look him in the eye. She wipes at the tears that are still running down her cheeks, but Gibbs takes hold of her hand, and brings it to his lips to kiss the inside of her wrist. He’s checking her pulse, she realizes, making sure she’s okay, and she takes a deep breath, holding his gaze.

“Better?”

She nods, unsure of how she got to be in her bed, post-sex with Gibbs and post-panic attack, and still very much with him lying beside her. His hand is tangled in her hair again, and she closes her eyes, giving in to the comfort even though her mind is saying she owes him an explanation.

“ ‘m sorry,” she murmurs, opens an eye only to find him looking dumbfounded. _Great,_ she’s confused Gibbs. “I didn’t mean – didn’t mean to freak out on you like that.”

“Kate –“ He sighs, his voice sounding rough, _tired_ , right before he leans closer to drop a kiss on her forehead. “There’s no – no need to apologize, Katie.”

Kate would be willing to bet good money – if she was in the right state of mind and not in mental limbo - that he’d follow that with the usual, _it’s a sign of weakness._ That even under these unusual circumstances, he’d go by his rules, wouldn’t so easily break any of them, Rule 12 included (what they did was least of all romantic).

It would have done her some good, hearing him cite a rule (or two), would have been a proper head slap back to reality. _True,_ it would have been a boss!Gibbs thing to say, blunt, kind of harsh, but little out of the ordinary, and Kate could have made use of that; _that_ would have felt normal.

But he doesn’t. She feels him take her hand in his, feels him squeeze her fingers. “Kate,” he whispers, and try as she might to avoid looking him in the eye, avoid seeing his concern, she meets his gaze full-on. He takes a deep breath and she finds her own hitch in her throat at his words. “Talk to me?”

 _God,_ he’s too kind and she deserves none of it. How does she explain her behavior without resorting to apologies along the lines of _I fucked you when you wanted to make love to me_ and make him understand that it wasn’t her intention to hurt him?

“Gibbs – I’m sorry, I—“ She bites her lip, still trying to make sense of it all and figure out a way to keep them intact, as colleagues, as friends. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispers. “Didn’t mean to _use_ you like that.” She can’t bear to look him in the eye, but she does it anyway, and what she sees there is not hatred, not _disdain,_ but compassion. Love.

“Oh, Katie.” He cups her cheek, rubs his thumb over the soft skin under her eye. “Hard to hurt a bastard like me.”

Despite herself, Kate chuckles, lets out the breath she’s been holding. She ponders his words for a moment, but she doesn’t, _can’t,_ let go so easily. “But I fucked you, I –“ She’s trying to convince him she wronged him – _horribly_ – and he shouldn’t be so forgiving, so –

“—did what you had to do. Glad I could make you feel better.” His voice is quiet, and he almost sounds resigned, and that’s not _right._

“You wanted more, Gibbs, didn’t you?” she all but whispers, biting hard on her lip. _God,_ she’s _so_ angry with herself. “I could feel it,” she says, mostly to herself. “—could feel it, but I couldn’t do anything about it –“

Gibbs sighs, pulls her close to him, and wraps her in his arms. “No use beating yourself up over it, Katie. That’s not what you want – I get it.”

The words are out before she can think better of it. “Not what I’m saying.” She’s not sure if she’s making it up or if Gibbs’ heart starts beating faster, his skin pressed to hers, if he really pulls her that much closer. 

“No?” His breath is tickling her ear, and there's disbelief in his voice and something else she’s unable to put her finger on just yet. 

Kate sighs, then kisses his shoulder. “Nope.” She looks him in the eye, and while he doesn’t appear too surprised, he's unwilling to take her word for it, it seems. It tugs at her heart all the more because how could she have done this, led him to believe she didn’t care for him? “It’s not that I don’t – not that I don’t want that _,_ Gibbs –“ 

She runs her hand up and down his back, plants a lingering kiss on his temple, an attempt at comfort post-factum (the comfort he deserved and needed). “I _do_ want that,” she whispers. _God,_ she _does_ love him, and if she was listening to her gut, she’d tell him, too, but openly admitting it to herself? Not a bad start. 

He freezes in her arms, and she has to rewind to figure out what’s got to him. 

“Kate.” He pulls back a little from her embrace to look her in the eye. “Don’t have to say that –“ He’s frowning and she reaches for him on instinct, tries to smooth down the crease with her thumb. He closes his eyes, murmurs, his voice breaking a little, “—not if you don’t mean it.” 

_What the – that man’s an idiot._

With no time to think, Kate just leans in, and kisses him on the lips, _hard._ Because seeing Gibbs like that, unsure of himself, not trusting her, simply hurts. She’s got some convincing to do, but by the sound of his moans – that _groan_ – and the way his arm loops round her waist, holding her tight, she knows she’s doing a decent job –

When they pull apart at last, he looks dazed, a little flushed, and she bites her lip, feeling the color creep up her cheeks, too. Gibbs is looking at her, his expression soft, with the familiar smirk slowly tugging at his lips. He pulls her closer for another kiss, but this time’s not as hurried; it’s languid and tender, and Kate could simply melt at the way his thumb’s painting circles onto her hip. He then nuzzles her neck, and this time she is sure she hears _I love you._

“Love you, too,” Kate murmurs. She doesn’t fail to notice how it takes him by surprise, – _still_ – and she just hopes he believes her this time. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

His face breaks into a smile, and it’s both heart-warming and making her stomach clench. She still has got some explaining to do. “Still sorry we fucked – we could have –“

“Katie.”

She’s about to cry because of the way he’s looking at her, so soft, nothing like the Gibbs she’s used to knowing, and very much like the Gibbs who’s forgiven her, _her_ Gibbs.“—but if we hadn’t, if we _had,_ you know –“ _made love._ Kate blushes, mentally scolding herself for her inability to voice those words. 

"Wasn't what you needed, Katie. I understand —" He trails off, and Kate can feel him thinking, struggling to find the right words, _any_ words, _period_. He's lightly running his fingers up and down her side, and it's more soothing than teasing; it's as though the very contact is helping him concentrate. "—but maybe, when you feel up to it, we could, you know —" He waggles his eyebrows, and Kate can't help but laugh.

It's not as though it fixes things — the laughter — because it doesn't. It's not like hurting him is not on her anymore because it is, and she can't quite so easily let it go (forgive herself). But knowing that Gibbs has, for all intents and purposes, forgotten about it, that he is willing to move past that, well, _that_ is making her feel lighter.

"Soon," she murmurs, biting her lip, surprised by her own response. But when he gasps at that, looking a bit surprised, yet nothing short of delighted, she can't help but grin. 

"Good," he says, then tugs her a bit closer, her head tucked under his chin. His hand is cradling her neck, and he's lightly massaging her tense muscles. 

_God_ , it's been a long day. His caresses are enough to make Kate yawn, and snuggle even closer, press a soft kiss over his heart. She's drifting, but before she falls asleep she needs to know, needs to make sure –

"Gibbs? Stay the night?" She hadn't realized she wanted that, but then again, she'd thought she wouldn't get much, if any, sleep tonight, and now she's halfway to dreamland. "Please." 

"Not going anywhere, Kate," he murmurs, then kisses the top of her head, whispers in her hair, "I'm so glad you're okay."

Hearing those words is not enough to stir Kate into full awareness and yet... it makes her wonder about what he said earlier. 

The words are out of her mouth before she knows it. "You said — you said you almost lost me, too." 

At that, he tenses, and she pulls back to look at him. His expression is pained, _vulnerable._ It's not hard to figure out there's a reason for it _._ Kate swallows hard against the lump in her throat, suddenly afraid to ask any more questions. " ’m sorry, I didn't mean to —"

"Tomorrow." He clears his throat, but his voice is still rough with emotion. "How about I tell you tomorrow, Kate?"

Kate's never seen Gibbs this _sad_ (and sad might not even be the right word here) _._ "You don't have to, Gibbs. If you don't want to—"

"Let me tell you tomorrow, Katie," he murmurs. He pulls her back into his arms, and she's not sure if she's making it up or if he's holding her tighter now. His fingers tangle in her hair, and she closes her eyes, letting herself relax. It doesn't take long before her breathing evens out and she can feel herself drifting again. The last thing she remembers before falling asleep is feeling Gibbs nuzzle her neck, the dampness of tears on her skin, feeling him shudder, as though shaken by sobs.

  
  



End file.
